


Visitors

by Swankyo0



Series: Visitors and Brothers [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-19
Updated: 2009-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-11 01:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swankyo0/pseuds/Swankyo0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after the war, Harry finds himself drawn to Snape's grave. He's not the only one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visitors

"…Albus Severus Potter. It's got a nice ring to it, don't you think? Ginny didn't much like the idea at first, but I wasn't giving up on it."

Harry sighed as he trailed his fingers over the engraved words in the smooth white stone. He hadn't visited in a while, not since James did his first bit of accidental magic. Harry felt the guilt well up in the pit of his stomach. This man deserved better than that.

"I know you're surprised. I bet you expected me to name him Sirius or Remus. Or even Harry." Harry scoffed at the idea of naming his son after himself. "But I wanted to name him after the real heroes of the war." Harry ran his fingers over the tombstone again before pulling himself to his feet.

"I'll come back again soon," he promised with a firm nod before the crack of apparition pulled him away.

Harry kept to his word, visiting the small graveyard once a week, bringing news of the living to the dead. He never saw anyone else there. Not that he had really expected to. From what Harry knew, he was the last person alive who would feel any sort of connection to this man.

"George is reopening the joke shop. It'll be hard for him with out Fred, but he'll manage. Oh, and he still wants his ear back." Harry chuckled into the silence. "Ginny's pregnant again. We're hoping it's a girl this time. She refuses to stop until we have a girl."

Harry sighed, looking around at the other gravestones. To an onlooker, had there been one, it would have seemed that Harry was checking for spying eyes. But Harry knew better than that. No one ever came here. Part of him was outraged by that. This man had given his life to end the war. He had given everything, and no one seemed to care.

But then, part of Harry was glad for the fact. This graveyard provided him a solitude he couldn't afford in the rest of the world. A place where he could be alone, say anything he wanted, or nothing at all. It was strange to think that the grave of the one man that never strove to see Harry as anything other than his parents' son was the one place Harry felt he could be himself.

"I hope we have a girl. I've always wanted a family, but I couldn't handle one as large as the Weasley's. Three is enough for me. Plus, I've got Teddy to look out for. I'm worried I won't have enough love to go around if we keep going. I mean, I worry that I'll run out." Harry never would have told anyone about his fears, but here, it seemed they just came pouring out. Harry chuckled again, but this time there was no humour in the noise.

"Seems I can only reveal my darkest secrets to the dead," he scoffed. "Must be my Slytherin side-" A disparaging snort had Harry jerking his head up, wand drawn and pointed at the unexpected visitor in less than a heartbeat.

"Potter," the blond standing before him drawled.

"Malfoy," Harry snarled back, spreading his feet to take a more defensive stance, his wand never wavering.

"You can put the wand away, Potter," Draco said calmly, spreading his hands to show he was unarmed. "I'm not here to fight with you."

Harry stared at Malfoy for a long, cold, calculating moment before lowering his wand and slipping it back into his sleeve. "Why are you here?" He asked, his voice and face still suspicious.

"Much the same as you are, I suspect," Draco replied, folding his hands behind his back and glancing down at the white stone. Harry turned and looked back at the grave, stepping back to place Malfoy within his line of vision. Malfoy didn't move as Harry stepped behind him. After a long and tense silence, Harry opened his mouth, surprised to hear the quietness of his own voice.

"I didn't know anyone else came to see him."

"Nor did I." Draco's voice was as soft as Harry's, as if they were both afraid they would disturb the dead if they spoke too loudly.

"I suppose it makes sense, though. He saved your life just as he did mine." Draco nodded and turned his attention back to the grave.

"That he did."

They lapsed again into silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Harry nearly jumped when Draco spoke again, this time his voice a bit more clear in the small clearing.

"I hated you because of him." Draco's voice was devoid of emotion- as if he felt no connection to them any longer, and it took a moment for Harry to realize what he had said.

"What?"

"He loved your mother. I hated you for that." Draco replied, never raising his gaze from the stone.

"Uh, ok…" Harry cast a confused look at Draco, completely lost with the new turn the conversation had taken.

"He was my mother's only true friend. My godfather. I always looked up to him, so much more than even my own father. My father is a cold man-"

"Your father begged for your life that night in the Shrieking Shack," Harry interrupted, truly confused.

"No," Draco chuckled, a dark sound full of malice and some other emotion Harry couldn't place. "My father begged for the life of the Malfoy Heir that night. I have no illusions about that. He did not want a son, only the continuation of his line. He never cared for me, or for my mother.

"Severus did." Harry blinked at the use of Snape's name. Even after all the time he had spent here, at the man's grave, he still referred to Snape as "sir" or "professor". Suddenly, Harry felt as though he was interrupting something private between Malfoy and his former Head of House. Harry was about to excuse himself and let Draco alone when Draco continued.

"But it wasn't enough. He cared for my mother, and yes, he even cared for me, but he had loved your mother." Draco looked back at Harry from over his shoulder, a cold and angry scowl on his face. "He had wanted to be _your_ father," he nearly spat before turning his face away. "Once again, I was not good enough- you won."

Harry stared at Draco, trying to process what he had said. He took in Draco's tense shoulders, the way his left hand was clenched into the side of his robe, the ramrod straight stance, and for once, Harry understood the blond. The longing for a parent's love was something Harry was intimately familiar with, something Harry would always understand. He could even understand Malfoy's hate- Harry had felt it that night in the Shrieking Shack as he watched what he assumed was a loving father begging for his son's life. Harry had hated Draco more at the moment than ever before- hated him for having what Harry never had. But, things were never as they seemed. Shaking his head, Harry turned away from the sad sight before him.

"No, Malfoy, this time, we all lost." With a crack of Apparition Harry left Draco behind with his dreams and regrets, and returned to his family.

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** The boys are not mine, they belong to JkR. I make no money off of this, and I promise that once I am done playing I will return them relatively unharmed...


End file.
